#fixed one of the gifs so it isnt blinking anymore

[askmeanjudge]

[cloudystevie]

guys imagine jealous ransom (in my depiction of his character❤️) because OMFG

also i haven’t written in a while so this isnt long or good quality or anything lol i also have no clue what this is <3

he already hates that you seem to have more of a hold on him than anyone else ever has, hates that you leave him wanting more because he isn’t supposed want more- you’re supposed to be begging for him just like everyone else has. except right now you two aren’t official so when he sees you flirting with one of his sleazy friends who made it clear all he was trying to do was get into your pants since you first began mingling- ransom is furious. his jaw ticks and nostrils flare, shoulders sqaure up and general body language just that much more tense and brain just a little slow to process because he doesnt know what he’s feeling but he knows he doesn’t like it. doesn’t like the possessiveness that blooms and thunders in his chest when matthew wraps an arm around your waist or when you giggle too loudly at his joke. doesn’t like the way your legs cross over each other and your cleavage juts out just enough for his perverted gaze to ogle.

ransom is jealous.

so in typical ransom fashion he swigs the rest of his old whiskey and comes up behind you, hand on your shoulder and squeezing tightly in warning and your eyes go wide, head tilting upwards to meet his and he doesn’t meet your gaze, fixing poor matthew with such a heated glare you were genuinely afraid ransom would swing on him. and the poor guy wouldn’t stand a chance against him. faster than you could blink you’re being practically dragged out by your arm to his car, his prized possession and he basically throws you in there and you are so utterly confused. when you try to question him he just shuts you up with a glare similar to the one he fixed matt with earlier. and you don’t dare say anything because you know he is fuming and you know your ass is going to pay for it.

so what you did it on purpose? you wanted to see if ransom truly didn’t care what you did like he said. its very apparent ransom does in fact care. a lot.

its a flurry of fast movements when you get thrown into ransoms bed, skimpy dress torn and even more fuming when he sees your bare pussy. you just smirk.“you’re such a little slut, am i not enough for you kitten? do i not pound you stupid enough?” a shiver runs up your spine at your words but you mask it with an innocent tilt of your head, “are you jealous ransom? i thought you didn’t care about me enough to pay attention to what i was doing.”and he growls, shoving you onto the bed and burying his face into your cunt and you instantly tense up, legs squeezing and your hands going to his silky short hair. he draws orgasms from you quickly after that and he’s only jusy getting started. he plans on taking orgasm aafter orgasm from you until youre mindless and unable to form a single coherent thought and feel anything other than him and how good he makes you feel.

he laughs at you then spits down onto your cunt and shoves three of his fingers inside of you and your legs quake wildly, “so fucking stupid aren’t you you little slut? who owns this pussy?” you don’t even have fight left in you anymore, instantly you answer with a hugh pitched squeal, “you do daddy you do!” and that’s how ransom knows he has got you utterly and truly fucked out- pliant for his every wish. he hums and finally lets up his pace, and you breathe loudly in relief but only for a few moments does he let you savour that before hes shoving his cock inside of you- and you fucking preen. squeal loudly and he doesn’t even have to thrust before you’re squirting all over yourself, him, and his sheets. you both love it filthy and messy. which is why ransom fucks you through your intense orgasm, and all the aftershocks until your first one blends into the next and your brain is foggy and all you can feel is ransom.

“can matthew fuck you like i can? answer me!”

“no he can’t! no one fucks me like you! i don’t want anyone else!” you blubber mindlessly and that’s all ransom needs before he blows his load inside of you, its thick and a lot and it triggers your own release and at this point youve lost count of how many times youve cum.

you barely register ransom pulling away or him wiping your body clean and then pulling you on top of him to settle into bed in your hazy state. but before you drift off to a satiated slumber he cups your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him-

“you’re mine kitten. don’t ever fucking forget that.”

[reidswritings]

I’ll Fight For You

authors note; uhhh happy new year! this is just a little something i wrote when i was feeling sad and wishing i had a spencer. i am in NO WAY trying to romanticize depression lol also this is kinda based on the song moonlight by future islands (this isnt edited so if you saw a mistake, no you didnt)

word count; 2.5k

warnings; depression and anxiety

Heavy. So, so heavy. That’s how she felt. She felt like the whole world had its ties on her and they were dragging her down, down, down. It felt like the darkness had finally caught up with her. She felt as though she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was all too much— too much of an effort, too much of a task, too much to even get her body to sit up. 

She had been fine the night before— that’s what she was trying to convince herself. 

She hadn’t been.

No, instead she had been declining and everyone who knew her could see it. They could see it on her face, they could see it when her usually contagious smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. They saw it in the way she apologized one too many times. They saw it in the way she constantly zoned out. They saw it get worse and worse and worse every day. 

Bit by bit they watched as the disease clawed its way from the depths of whatever cave it lived in and did its very best to drag her back down into the darkness with it. 

They saw it all. They were just too polite to say anything. Too polite, too uncaring, too preoccupied. Too whatever. A part of her wished they hadn’t been too whatever. A part of her wished they cared enough to reach out. 

Though, she thought, maybe it was a good thing they hadn’t. Maybe it was a good thing they let her be. Maybe it was a good thing— it gave her the opportunity to get over whatever this was by herself, in peace. 

The Tired Girl wasn’t kidding anyone. They all knew what this was. This wasn’t some funk she’d get over. This wasn’t just a bad day. This was just her life. This was just how she had to live. This was her condition rearing its ugly head—her depression. It always happened to her at the worst times. It happened when she first fell in love. It happened when everything was going well at work. It happened when nothing was wrong in her life. It happened when her life was absolute shit. It always happened when she least expected it. 

It just always happened.

Beside her, she felt the comforter pull. It pulled away from under her chin, letting in the cold air. Letting in the bad thoughts. Letting in the intrusive thoughts. Letting in everything she desperately wanted to keep out. She felt him move from the bed, his hand patting her back. He leaned down, fingers tangling themselves in her knotted hair, kissing her head so softly she wanted to cry. She heard him grunt as he stood, bones cracking alongside the stretch he gave— she listened as he did the same thing he did every single morning. 

She heard him gulp down the glass of water from the night prior, she heard him walk into the bathroom connected to their room and she heard him hum to himself as he started his day. She listened as he twisted open the cap to his contacts, then his glasses case. She heard him opened the face wash and then the toothpaste. She heard it all, stuck in the bed like she was chained to it. Stuck in the bed like she was prisoner to it. 

She heard him do all these things and once again, like clockwork, she began to feel her body seize up. She felt her blood boil, she felt herself become so angry she could hardly stand it. 

She wished she could move. She wished she could get up to be with him. She wished she could partake in their morning kiss. She wished they could laugh together in the bathroom mirror, toothbrushes in hand and toothpaste falling down their lips and chins. She wished she could share a cup of coffee with him. She wished and wished and wished. She wished she wasn’t so angry at the world, at herself, at everything. 

Oh, how she wished she could just be there. 

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time wasn’t relevant to her anymore. Her unfocused eyes were watching the curtains. They were pulled closed, dark and depressing— much like herself. She remembered when they bought the stupid drapes. 

The had bought the blackout ones, hopeful not to be woken up by the sun raising. She liked it at the time, she thought it was a good idea. . . at the time. Now, the goddamn curtains were hurting her soul. She wanted to pull them open. She just had no energy. She just couldn’t move.

So, she sat, staring blankly at the god awful blackout curtains. Until he blocked her view. Her eyes focused, meeting the beautiful hazel eyes she fell in love with. His mouth was moving but her ears hadn’t caught up yet. She could tell that he was sighing, defeated. She blinked, unmoving. She felt bad, she felt so fucking horrible. She felt horrible for her, for him, for everything. Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to move— to make it better. To fix things. 

She watched his hand reach out, slowly, settling on her covered arm. She could feel the warmth through her shirt and that made things a little better. Not much, but when you’re that sick, anything helped. No matter how big or small. 

She wanted to smile, thank him for being there for her. She wanted to kiss him like her life depended on it. She wanted to give him all the things he deserved— but still, she was unmoving, frozen.

Everything hit her at once, she could throw up. She could cry, she could scream, she could throw a fucking fit. She wanted to be left alone, she couldn’t handle anything. He was talking, she was catching the tail end of it. “—ou alright?”

Thick with sleep, with sadness, with morning haziness, her voice was loud, “Huh?’’

He spoke again, “I said, are you alright?” She could feel his thumb rubbing against her arm and it hurt. It hurt. Everything hurt. She shook her head, eyes closing again. She felt her face scrunch up, in annoyance, in pain, in sadness, in everything she wished she wasn’t. 

He moved his hand, the one that was just too soft, to her cheek. She wished it was soothing, she wished she could lean into his touch. The Worried Boy nodded, “Okay, okay. What can I do? How can I help?’’

The girl shrugged. She was sighing, heavy, it carrying everything that she had bottled up the past weeks. She knew what she needed, but she was too afraid to ask. Too afraid to voice her thought, too afraid she’d be too much. Too afraid that this would be the one thing that he deemed to be too much. 

He pulled the blanket back up to her chin, hands hovering. His mind was moving a mile a minute, trying, thinking of anything that might help his Pretty Girl. Her mind was creating lies, telling her that she was worthless, that he hated her, that she was nothing. 

It was a whirlwind— her mind. She willed it to stop, unsuccessfully, she curled further into her dark position. She felt his hands leave her, finally. A breath of fresh air rushed through her lungs, comfort and calm filling her veins. She could finally breathe— until she couldn't again. Her mind began again, throwing the nasty at her. It told her he didn't love her, it told her he didn't want to touch her. It told her she was too much. It told her all the things she didn't want to hear. 

It told her all the things he tried too hard to make her forget on the good days. 

"Hey." his voice cut through the fog, loud and strong. It was her light at the end of her dark tunnel, "Stop that."

He let out a breath, it fanned on her face, she welcomed the heat that followed. “I’m sorry.”

He was shaking his head, sad and feeling all the feelings for her. He wished away her bad thoughts, he wanted her to return to the usually bubbly girl she was. 

 Her world was suddenly shifting again and her mind becoming no less clouded, heavy as ever. The boy who she loved with her entire being, pulled her arms to her chest, sliding in bed behind her. His lips were moving against her ear, words brushing her skin. 

Her ears were picking up on the sweet nothings her pretty boy was murmuring, but her mind was on a different path. Her mind was fogged. It was like she was watching, listening, through a fogged up piece of glass. 

She could feel his arms on her body, it was comforting. And before she knew what was happening to her, her mind was swirling again. It was sharp. She found her voice, strong in the disappointment that was her illness. “Spence— Spencer, I-I.”

She stopped, depression kicking her in the ass. Spencer’s voice was louder. “Don’t, don’t stop. Keep going, push through, Y/N/N.”

“I’m so tired. I feel like. . . everything is just so hard right now, Spence.”

He sighed, she did too, eyes heavy and lethargic. She was so fucking tired, she felt like she could pass out any second. She felt like she hadn’t slept in ages. Her head fell back on to his shoulder, his hands bursting away the knotted hair away. If she wasn’t in this funk, she knew her heart would’ve skipped a beat at the simple gesture. Breath heavy on her lungs, on her body, on her mind and soul, she exhaled.

Her boy nodded, squeezing her just a little extra. “That’s it. Let it out.”

His hands were moving again, brushing against her cheeks. He was wiping, lingering. Her eyes caught his hand when he finally took it away, it was wet, glistening in the small amount of light that illuminated the two. 

“I’m sorry. . .” The broken girl breathed. She wasn’t sure why she did so. All she knew was that it was second nature. Saying those words was up there with the need to breathe, pressing and dire. 

“. . .Why?” It was just as quiet as her cries— the ones that she barely had a clue were happening. 

Despite the ignorance, she cried harder, eyes and face scrunched up tighter than Spencer had ever seen. Her breath had caught, faster than they both wanted. Her heart seized up, sad and lonely— despite the pretty boy beside her. She wanted to be anywhere other than where she was. She was tired— tired of feeling the way she did. Tired of feeling like she wasn’t enough for him. Tired of feeling like she was more a burden than a blessing. She was just so, so fucking tired. 

She knew she could talk to him. She knew that. Of course she did, it was Spencer— she could tell him anything and he’d never, ever, in a millions years, judge her or make her feel like less for having her own thoughts and opinions.

So, it was usually easy to talk to him. It was easy because she loved him. She loved the way he responded, she love the way he would light up every time she sat him down and told him everything. It was easy because he would get this look on his face that she rarely ever saw. He would get this look that she loved more than anything in the whole world. More than chocolate, more than her favorite movie, more than her friends, more than everything. 

Y/N’s most favorite thing in the whole world was the look that crossed his beauty whenever she talked to him. When it happened, it was like the whole world had stopped. To, Spencer, it was like everything in his world had become. . . secondary. Like, nothing else mattered to the pale boy except the words that were leaving his pretty girl. His eyes would grow all wide and innocent and it warmed Y/N’s heart every damn time. 

She quickly learned that to see her favorite look, she had to talk. To him. About everything. Even the ugly. Even her deepest darkest secrets. And she did, quite often too. So, when the broken girl cried out in-between sobs and choppy breathes a very heart-wrenching, “I don’t know!” Spencer knew something was amiss. 

His hands were back in her hair, pulling it away from her eyes, her forehead, opening up the girl to the light he so desperately wanted to share with her. “Hey, just breathe.”

Cries still there, just not as present, she sat up. Looking at her boy through the blurry vision that were her tears, she said, “You don’t deserve this.”

He didn’t answer, he only raised his hand, to place on her shoulder, probably. She flinched away and hurt crossed his features before he placed his hand back down onto his own leg. She continued, head shaking, “You know that, don’t you? You deserve someone who can get up with you in the morning. You should have someone who doesn’t wallow in their own pity and despair. You deserve more than me, Spence.”

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N.” His voice had a bite of sadness to it. Y/N could tell. His eyes were far away, though maintaining eye contact. 

“Understand?” Her breath stilled finally. She was perplexed with her beautiful boy. An action that happened quite often. 

His beautiful eyes returned, he shook his head slightly. His mouth turned up at the side and he let out the smallest of chuckles. “Y/N, I-I— You mean everything to me.”

The boy cleared his throat, probably to flush away the tears that threatened to show through his voice. Then he continued, looking at his pretty girl. “I will tell you until the end of time. I’ll tell you until it gets through that thick skull of yours.” He chuckled at that, a finger tapping against her temple. 

“Spencer, I’m just so, so tired. Tired of everything.”

Her boy sighed, sad again. “ We fight for each other. You fought to clear my name, you fought to get me clean. . . again. We fight for each other, Y/N/N. And right now, I’m asking for you to make the choice to stay, because I cant do this without you, Y/N. I’m gonna fight for you. I’ll fight for you, until I don’t have to anymore.”

And for once, 

For once,

For once, she realized, she wasn’t quite as alone as she had thought. She wasn’t the only one that experience this kind of sadness. She realized that her once small, dark world was no longer small and dark. 

Not with Spencer Reid pulling her through the dark, never ending tunnel. Now, she wasn’t cured, not by any means, of course. But, it hurt just a little less knowing he was right there with her. 

Knowing he was her light in the dark storm of life. And that was all she needed. 

[kimhargreeves]

The One That Got Away-Cassian Andor

A/N:I guess you can aready tell which song this was inspired from, prepare for some the feels. Rogue One has to be in my top 3 SW films so this guy deserves more love.

I couldn't imagine my life without Cassian Andor, the man who i loved since we were kids and the man who saved my life multiple of times. We would spend everyday with each other,doing everything together,the time came when we finished our studies and from kids we became teenagers. Those times will always be my favorites because we both got married,his parents and mine didnt agree on us marrying at a young age.

My parents used to tell me to leave him and that he isnt good enough for me.I wouldnt replace him for anything in the galaxy. We held a small wedding ceremony with our closest friends and family.

A week had passed when i found out i was carrying his child,we were both happy to become parents...eight months later I ost it...because of my miscarriage,we grew apart and decided to end our relationship.

He moved away one day without saying a word and i never saw him again until he arrived one day. I was doing my daily work when i heard a few voices from behind me and heard,K-25O,Cassian's droid..

"(Y/N?) It's been so long." The droid came and stood in front of me.

"It has been." I whispered and smiled up at him.it wasnt a real smile.

The droid spoke up again,"We came back." he spoke.

"I can see that,K" I reply.

"It won't be long though,we're on a secret mission." He leanned down and whispered so no one else would listen.

"Well i do hope you make it back then."

The droid walked past me and when i fixed my eyes up front i met with a familar brown pair of eyes,I stared at him for a second but quickly looked away and resumed doing my chores.my parents were right on me choosing Cassian as my partner..though i do think of him from time to time. Slowly i moved my head to the side and glanced back at him who was talking to someone else.

"Jyn! Get ready,we're leaving in ten minutes." He shouted.

He walked past me angrily so i just stayed quiet and someone tapped my shoulder, "Everything alright (Y/N)?"

My best friend asked me,"Yes..i think i'm alright." I nodded and didnt fix my eyes on her till she grabbed my shoulders and made me look at her.

"You aren't alright,Cassian came back."

"I know. I just cant do this anymore i have to stay strong." I tell her,right when she was going to speak another voice spoke up.

"I see that you haven't changed a bit..still bossy and stubborn as ever..." I turned my back and faced Cassian. My friend walked away so we both could talk, "It's good to see you." He whispered meeting my green eyes.

I laughed and shook my head,smiling at him, "Don't say those things..we both know that you got away and decided to leave me.."

"You don't think i regret leaving-" He said before i interrupted.

"No! Cassian. You don't know how it felt like..you ran away and left me grieving over our child." I say as a tear fell.

"It was mine too!"

"Oh yeah? then why are you with that girl then. It looks like you got over it fast."

"I'm not with her." He glared "Look...If you're going to tell me something..then say it."  He said with his eyes focused on mines. I breathed in and said.

"I wish i had never met you."

Cassian looked away blinking a couple of times before walking towards me,"I've had this since i left..i'm sorry." He grabbed my hand and placed a small sheet of paper in my hand. He just walked away again,not looking at me as i watched him leave.

***************************

I finished cleaning up the place when my friend came running to where i was, "Beth? What is it?" I ask and face her. When she hugs me and quickly lets me go. I look at her still confused when she opens her mouth and says the words i never wanted to hear.

"Cassian is dead." She says.

"What?" I ask again. I blink a couple of times fighting back the tears.

"I am so sorry (Y/N)" She walks away crying. Beth considered Cassian like an older brother and they both helped each other out. I fall down to my knees and feel my heart ache and cry.

Cassian is gone now..forever..and the last thing i said to him was that i wish i never met him. I cry even more not caring if someone stops and stares at me. I open my eyes and feel the small paper inside my pocket,as quickly as i can i open it without tearing it and start reading the letter.

"(Y/N),by the time you receive this letter from me, i'll be dead. I know i left without saying anything to you and i'm sorry. I wish i never treated you like that and know that i'd trade anything to be with you again..even if it's for day.

 I never should've left you,i want you to remember those precious times we spent together.  There wasnt a single day where i would remember you and your smile that always used to brighten my days. I want you to be happy ,(Y/N) don't cry over me..i held this with me ever since i left and i'm giving it to you again. 

Please keep it safe and don't forget me...I'll always love you."

I started to cry even more and smiled when i stared at the item he held all those years.It was my wedding ring. The day before he left i threw it and he picked it up. I wish i would've told him that i loved him before he died..after all he was the one who got away...